


I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!!

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-18
Updated: 2006-10-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 19:04:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian and Justin watch the first part ofDante's Coveso there are massive spoilers for that particular show.





	I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!!

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: Obviously, this is crackfic.  


* * *

“If you’re going to make me watch this, then I need to be on some type of narcotic,” Brian said, grabbing the remote from Justin’s hand and hitting PAUSE just as Tracy Scoggins (cause her character’s name really wasn’t important) kissed the guy with the creepy pancake makeup. He went over to his bookcase, opened the little box he kept there, and returned with a baggie and some rolling papers.

***

“Hm . . . Servant Guy is such a slut,” Brian murmured, as he observed the way the servant’s eyes roamed Ambrosius’s fully-covered body.

_Servant guy: Is there anything you require, Sir?_

_Ambrosius: Yes . . . as a matter of fact, there is . . ._

“Ambrosius is kind of hot, though,” he remarked, as the men onscreen stripped down and Ambrosius began blowing Servant Guy. Justin sucked on the joint, his eyes widening slightly as Tracy Scoggins walked back toward the house to retrieve the gloves she’d forgotten to take when she’d initially left for her walk. “Oh, poor Tracy Scoggins.”

“Who’d have thought Ambrosius would be the one bent over the sofa? I’d have put my money on Servant Guy.” Brian reached over and took the joint from Justin. “Hm.” He paused and studied the screen as Tracy entered the living room and Servant Guy moved away from Ambrosius’s ass. “Servant Guy has a massive penis.”

“Tracy’s gonna kill him, though. What woman doesn’t want to kill the big-dicked guy who’s fucking her fiancé in her living room?” Justin shrugged, then gestured to the tv. Tracy’s eyes glowed red as she burned Servant Guy from within. He promptly fell prone on the floor and began flopping about.

“Huh. Servant guy’s aforementioned massive penis is moving about at quite a clip . . .”

***

“I can’t believe Tracy Scoggins has chained up her fiancé and is whipping him . . .”

“Some people are into flagellation. It would be wrong to judge them.” Brian nodded wisely, then stood and ambled over to grab his bottle of scotch.

“Oh my god! She super-aged him! He looks like a snow monkey!” Justin exclaimed as hysterics overtook him, tears running down his face as he laughed.

***

“Hm . . .” Justin tilted his head to one side and studied Kevin, the young blond of the series. “He’s kind of cute.”

“Bad actor. Bad, bad actor.”

“They’re all bad actors. Oh, blowjob in a cab.” Justin turned to the older man. “How come we’ve never blown each other in a cab?”

“Because that,” he gestured to the cabbie on the tv screen, “is the kind of driver we’d end up dealing with.”

“He looks like Rob Halford . . .”

“For inflicting my formative years with that caterwauling that was Judas Priest, Rob Halford doesn’t deserve to even _witness_ hot, stupid guys getting blowjobs.” Brian raised the bottle of Scotch. “Want some?”

***

On the screen, Toby was vocal about his dismay over the lack of tomatoes on his burger, pouting and asking Kevin for some of his.

_Toby: I love tomatoes . . . I love **your** tomatoes._

“CHEESIEST LINE EVER!!!”

“I’ll be needing more weed to get through the rest of this . . .”

***

“Did you see that?” Justin pointed at the screen. “His ass just jiggled! Toby was grabbing one cheek, but the other one spontaneously, like . . . spazzed . . . all on its own!”

“From hereon in, Kevin shall be known as Jiggly Ass Boy.”

“Well, when it’s not doing weird things, it’s a nice ass.”

“Yup.”

***

“I’m sensing a moment coming up shortly,” Brian stated, shifting around so that his back was against the sofa’s arm rest and pressing his bare feet to Justin’s jeans clad leg.

_Toby: How do you feel about us?  
Kevin: How do **you** feel about us?"_

“Nothing like a little post-fuck girl talk.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! It’s just . . . poorly written. And . . . okay, yeah, it’s painful,” Justin remarked, lightly pinching Brian’s ankle.

***

“It’s so sad when relationships end,” Justin remarked, watching as Jiggly Ass Boy sat on the beach, at sunset, listening to his Ipod and crying as the surf wet his toes.

“Because if those two morons can’t make it work, then no one can! Pass me the rolling papers.”

“It’s just . . . oh, look! Toby found him! Brian! You’re missing all the good stuff.”

“None if it’s good,” Brian remarked as he concentrated on rolling another joint.

“Oh my god! They’re rolling in the sand! NOW THEY'RE HUGGING AND CRYING!”

“After a romp in the surf, parting is such sweet sorrow. We should be like Bobby and Whitney and have crack in the house. Maybe that would make this bearable,” Brian mumbled around the joint as he held his lighter to its tip.

***

“I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!”

“What the fuck?”

“I SEE DEAD PEOPLE!” Justin said again in a scratchy voice. “Look! Toby’s being accosted by a crusty old dead lady.”

“She needs a better stylist, because that’s disgusting. If you’re going to go Goth and wear all black, for fuck’s sake, do it with style! Would it kill to spring for something designed by _Boudicca?”_

***

“Blue Bus.”

“What?”

“Kevin’s on the blue bus,” Brian remarked, staring at the younger man. “Do you know nothing?”

“So he’s going to _Dante’s Cove_ to be with Toby . . . and the bus is blue.”

“When I was a kid, the blue bus was the Special Ed bus. I think I’m going to start calling him Special Kev.”

“You’re so stoned.”

“Would I be watching this otherwise?”

***

“Okay . . . is it just me, or did Kevin just, like, go around the block eighty times to get to _Dante’s Cove?_ Because it looks exactly the same as the place where they had their beach-sex marathon.”

“They’re working on a low budget. Suspend your disbelief,” Justin remarked, as Kevin pushed open the gate to Hotel Dante and began making his way up the sidewalk. He’d barely made it eight feet when he was accosted by a man in a gauzy white shirt and tiny white shorts, that clearly outlined his cock.

“Who wears short shorts? If you dare wear short shorts, Nair for short shorts!” Brian sang in the way that only the stoned can, bursting into a fit of laughter at the end.

***

“Jesus Christ! I’ve been blinded!” Brian exclaimed as the shorts-clad man – Cory – opened a hotel room door, only to happen upon a man and woman having sex. “This is _not_ my idea of fun, Justin! If I have to see bad acting, the bad acting should be made up for by having lots of man on man action. There should be no hets allowed!”

***

Justin burst out laughing as Toby approached Special Kev in the shower, but found that his run-in with the dead woman had left him unable to perform sexually. “I can’t have sex with you,” Justin quipped. “The dead lady scared me . . . oh, wait . . . I have been cured by your magical penis! Soap me up and squeeze my ass!”

“Is that an invitation for later tonight? Because after putting me through this hell, I deserve a reward.” A moment later, a sofa pillow hit Brian in the side of the head.

***

Brian stubbed out his joint and squinted at the screen as Van walked along the beach, topless, and wearing only a thong bikini. “Oh, look! Tits!”

“They’re nice.”

“What?”

“I can appreciate them for their aesthetic beauty.”

“Because you’re an _artiste.”_

“Yep.”

Onscreen, Special Kev was now sitting in the sand with Van, his face buried in the vicinity of her tits as he cried.

“I know I love it when my favorite lesbians show me their tits and then hold me while I cry. It doesn’t make me feel like less of a man. It just reassures me that everything will be okay, that the earth will keep spinning on its axis, and that I will come to my senses after a few minutes and run screaming from the aforementioned tits.”

“I love you.”

“Uh huh.”

***

“That girl looks like a poor imitation for Gina Gershon,” Brian remarked, as Van led the other woman into the hotel basement and Justin began yelling at the tv, “Don’t go in the basement! Snow Monkey haunts the basement!”

***

“That’s wrong,” Brian remarked, as Kevin rescued Snow Monkey, only to have Snow Monkey grab and kiss him.

“So wrong,” Justin stated, as Kevin promptly threw up at Snow Monkey’s feet.

“That will be etched in my mind for all eternity.” Brian grimaced as he watched the scene unfold, Snow Monkey finally, disturbingly, turning back into the young Ambrosius. “Hm . . . now that he doesn’t look like a snow monkey, he’s kind of hot. But, regardless, I can’t watch this shit anymore.” He stood, turned off the tv, dropped the remote on the coffee table, and headed toward the bedroom. “Come on! You tortured me for an hour and a half. Now it’s time for me to torture you.”

“Yay.”


End file.
